A few weeks ago we had a little kitten roaming our garden and staying close to our house. The kids spotted the kitten, played with it and saw that the kitten had no idea where it came from or where to go to. My youngest son J. was literally in love with the kitten, my daughter A. and the girl next door were already asking around within the neighborhood if any of the neighbors was missing a kitten. No luck so far. We let the kitten sleep outside the house, made a safe and comfortable place for him to stay. The kitten had no intensions in leaving our garden, so we decided to make a plan the next day.

When we opened our front door the next morning, the kitten was still there and ready to play. We kept him outside the house to not upset our oldest male cat too much. Our male cat Lana is possessed with taking care of his territorium and when there are new smells of other animals, he’s spraying the whole garden and inside the house to let everyone know that he’s in charge. He’s castrated, but that doesn’t seem to bother his spraying behaviour. This all started when we moved into our current house where the neighbor cats had claimed the garden for many years and had to give it up to the new renters cats. So we had a lot of fights going on, I kept my cats inside the house at night since the meanest cats were like gangs checking the neighborhood at night. We already encountered the mean fat red tomcat and his right hand the pirate cat. We call him the pirate, because he is blind in one of his eyes after a fight. We knew what we were dealing with, kept the new kitten out of sight of Lana and discussed plan B.

The girls had been asking around if the kitten had an owner nearby. Some people said that they had seen the cat already walking around for weeks in the adjacent neighborhoods. Everybody was concerned, but not ready to step in and help out. The grandmother of the girl next door even forbid the girl to be part of seeking the owner of the kitten and said that she herself has already enough cats. That was quite funny since nobody asked granny to take the kitten in any way, wich means that she didn’t trust herself on this point and feared to be charmed into taking care of the kitten. This granny had indeed 2 cats around her house who literally abandoned her and I would dare to say due to lack of real care. They also have a lot of animals up into the mountains where they own a piece of land, but there isn’t a real taking care issue when it comes to the cats that live there. The cats take care of themselves.

So plan B was taking care of the kitten and in the meanwhile keep searching for the owner. The outflow of plan B in case that we didn’t find the owner was to bring the kitten to a shelter. We would love to keep the cat, but after months of adapting problems between our oldest male cat Lana and the last kitten we took in our home last summer, it wasn’t a real option to go through again. Although it was tempting. Our 2 oldest cats, Lana and Lupa, were abandoned in a cardboard box with their sister Katja before they were brought to the shelter where we got them from. They are traumatised for life, but we deeply care for them. Then last summer another cat came on our path and was up for adoption. The new one called Siep is an open, friendly and exploring cat and so much fun to be around. Siep had no adapting problems, but the traumatised cats had. With this experience we made ourselves believe that bringing the kitten to a shelter would be the best option. I kept wishing for it’s owner to be found since that would be the best option of all, as I believed. My partner P. warned that it also could be a case of abandoning the kitten for their owners to be able to go on a holiday, which is still common here.

The kids decided to make flyers to hang throughout our small village. They took a charming picture of the kitten, wrote a message on the flyer and made strips to tear off with our name and celphone number. Again A. and the next door girl went from home to home with the kitten, where they hadn’t been yet the day before. So now we had to wait. We decided to make our cellar into a guest room for the kitten. He already showed that he was cat box trained, so we made a cat box, put water and dry food in the room. The kids made him a box with a towel to sleep in and a few homemade toys. We’d gone through all these efforts, because letting him free in the garden could make him leave. Then when the owners would call us, we wouldn’t have their cat anymore. The kitten enjoyed his stay in our cat hotel and J. went in there every 15 minutes to make sure all was alright. In between that A. checked on him and also I went in from time to time. So no lack of attention.

The next morning A. and I were doing groceries when her phone rang when a boy/young man living down the street called us. He had seen the flyer hanging on a lamppost next to his house. The boy studies in Rome and is over for the summer holidays to visit his mom and sister, they all live in the same house. He told A. that the kitten was his and that he had him for 2 weeks now and that the kitten must have escaped the garage. We arranged for him to come by after lunch to pick up his cat. We were relieved and sad at the same time, because the kitten was so much fun.

The boy came by to pickup his cat and thanked us a million times. He said he was glad that we had found the kitten since people around here do not really care. To us it’s normal to act in this way, all life is life and therefore worthy. He took the little kitten in his arms and he looked so happy. I felt relieved that the cat was back with his owner who obvious cared a lot about the little creature. After spending 3 days with the kitten it already felt empty without him, but he lives so close, we will probably see him many times again.

A few days later while walking by the house of the owner of the kitten I saw the kitten walking freely in the garden where the gate was wide open. I automatically talked to the kitten and he responded by walking towards me, I stroked him, he snuggled. When I was ready to walk a way the kitten started following me, so I did put him back into the garden and lucky enough for both of us he found a grasshopper to chase and was distracted.

Later that day I spoke about the kitten being loose again with the kids and A. said that she also noticed this and spoke about it with the owner. This family has proven already that they want to be nice to animals, but in reality it comes down to almost abusive behavior. They once had taken in a rejected rabbit that after a while started to eat a way through his wooden home. They watched it talked about it and did nothing, till the day that it became a real hole in the side of the wooden rabbit home. They decided that this was the moment on which the rabbit had gone too far, they slaughtered the rabbit and had him for dinner. Also the abandoned and traumatized dogs they took in are a almost too big task for them. The boy is quite good with the animals, but the mom and sister do not care much. Now with the boy at university in Rome the animals are left alone with these 2 women. So there I had my second guess on the sanity of my action when I gave the kitten back to the boy. Was he taking the cat with him to Rome? Was the kitten staying with these women? I decided to keep an eye on it and ultimately offer to take in the cat myself if things would go wrong.

For a while I didn’t see the kitten when I walked by the house of the boy. The garage was always closed, so I figured that they had become responsible and waited with letting the cat go outside when it was more used to it’s surroundings and a bit bigger. They do live close to the main road that goes through the village. At dinner one time I mentioned to my kids this fact of seeing these neighbors as more responsible now. A. looked a bit weird at me and had this undecidable look in her eyes. Then she said, “The kitten is dead mom”. WHAT! I didn’t want to believe the words I just heard. I felt anger coming up. A. said, “See that’s why I hadn’t told you”. I was mad, mad at the world, mad at these people and in the end mad at myself. And that was the only point I could work with, the only point I could explore and change.

I was mad for believing the picture of the young man holding the kitten as if he was in love with the animal. I was mad that I hadn’t been using common sense, while I knew about this family’s history with animals. I knew that they were irresponsible with the kitten and I hadn’t acted upon that information. I wanted to believe, that this young man would care as an equal for this little creature so badly, that I didn’t see what was here presented to me. And that is a shitty experience, not knowing if I could have saved this kitten’s life.

During this same period I met at work a family where the mother of a family of 4 had a 15 year old daughter and a 5 year old. She, in public, was the most perfect mom I ever saw. Later I heard from my boss that the oldest daughter had found a listening ear in her. The 15 year old girl explained how she was the Cinderella of the family. Her stepfather, looking like Ken and working in the finance world, was headhunted by her mom to have a beautiful child with, her little half sister. The 5 year old would be given diamond necklaces while the oldest had to watch and hear that she wasn’t worthy of getting anything. During their stay in the country house of my boss, the oldest had to mop the floor, wash the towels, all kind of chores that are included in the price of the country house. When my boss told the mom that the girl didn’t had to do all of this since it was her job, the mom responded, no she has to do this it’s good for her discipline.

So the kitten story hit me just even more and the anger I felt after hearing about the death of the kitten was accelerated by the Cinderella story. So what did I learn from this? Whenever the picture presented to you is too good to be true, investigate what is really here, because you might allow and accept reality to fuck with you. And that isn’t bringing any orgasmic feelings.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to be mad when I heard the kitten had died.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to be mad at my surroundings after hearing that the kitten had died.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to be mad at the owners of the kitten for their irresponsibility.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself blame the owners of the kitten for their irresponsable behavior.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself judge the owners of the kitten for not taking real care of the kitten.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to blame the owners of the kitten for having animals without giving them basic care.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to blame the owners of the kitten for not seeing animals as their equals.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to be mad at myself for not directing the situation while the facts were in front of me.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to get carried away on the rush and energetic feelings of the anger.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to use the anger as an excuse to not be aware in the moment when A. told me that the kitten had died.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to not believe that the kitten had died and instead choosing anger to hide my feelings of guilt.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to feel guilty about the death of the kitten.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to judge myself for not acting in the best interest of all when it comes to the care of the kitten.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to blame myself for buying into positive pictures people present and try to sell to me.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to desire that the death of the kitten had never taken place.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to see myself as a better owner of animals than the owners of the kitten and my neighbor.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to participate within the polarity of better and less within the care for animals.

When and as I see myself participating within this pattern of losing myself within the energetic rush of anger when I sense unfairness .I stop and I breathe. Within this I realize that the energy of this experience is directing me and I am not the directive force here. Thus I stop this participation in this energy as anger/ blame and judging others for my experience of myself and do not participate, but breathe myself here in and as the physical.

While taking the steep path up on the mountain this afternoon and looking out over the village that’s kind of hidden within the valley, I witnessed the first wild forest flowers produced by nature. Most of these flowers are green or yellowish green and a really careful attempt of nature to show us that after the cold winter, that we’re still in, there will be Spring and life will burst open in full expression. It’s my anchor in life, the four seasons, some I love and some I don’t want to face. It’s all about the weather, the weather is my starting point for favoring a specific season or not. The weather is also a quite realistic force within our life, we can die from heat and dehydration or either freeze to death without a roof above our head.

The weather is probably one of the most discussed topics in life. Some people have made their profession out of it and all the other people have opinions about it. It comes down to one point, they are all guessing. Our weather men and women are interpreting calculated models by computers, other people use the tradition of the condition of a half sliced onion lying in the window and most people dig in their memory and compare weather conditions throughout their life to this years weather.

Memories are subjective and based on your emotions and feelings of that moment when you experienced this specific weather condition. Comparing those memories with your presence isn’t very reliable. Back in the 1980, while being a kid in the Netherlands, we had a lot of snow one year. My dad wasn’t able to leave home to go to work by car. According to my memory it must have been at least a meter snow, but was it really? That’s a lot of snow for the Netherlands and I was not yet really that tall as a kid, so from my perspective within my memory, lets say 30 to 40 centimeter of snow could have been experienced by me as a meter snow. That same winter we had quite some ice freezing on the streets and I went to school on my ice skates. The question is, was my whole village covered in ice or only a few cold places, I really don’t know.

The point is, while we do all the weather comparing whether it’s the computer models or the memories, we miss out on real life. We are so consumed with what was or could be that we actually miss all the clues and signs of what for instance nature is giving us. Just like the first forest flowers or a certain wind that starts blowing, the physical is full proof of what is here. You see, life isn’t that complicated I found out, if we only were willing to see this. It’s us that make life complicated, due to the fact that we do not want to face ourselves. We build a whole circus around fears that we don’t want to face and lose track of the simplicity of what it really is that we have to face.

We are real masters in covering up to not face ourselves, but covering up means it’s still here and we just do not see it right now. Then when it blows up in our face we try to deny it at first, we’ve got great tools for that called: justifications, excuses, blaming and opinions. If that’s still not going to do the trick we can always become the victim of it all, and use the tools again to bring others or circumstances in a negative light and make us the positive winner. Then we can be happy, we did our best and created the outcome we desired. Still we didn’t face ourselves and we create a monster inside ourselves. Our own physical body will turn against us with this monster inside, because the physical is full prove of what is here. We become sick and sicker, still not facing ourselves and asking why we have to be sick and why not another. Till the moment that our doctor says we haven’t got long to live anymore and society will abandon us. The few people who dare to face us will visit us and talk about the weather just to not face themselves and not to face you the equivalent of their own fear: dead.

When reflecting on the word terminal with my partner P. we came to the conclusion that we are all equally terminal patients.

A terminal III patient for instance has a life expectation of 12 months, when one is in it’s last phase of terminal illness one has a life expectation of 3 months. We go nuts when a doctor predict how long we still have to live. Suddenly we are determined by the fact that we do not live eternally, although most medical predictions are as accurate as your daily horoscope we let this message freak us out. We all understand that when you are born at a sudden moment you will die at a sudden moment, common sense. No life elixer has ever prolonged any life. The pharmaceutical industry likes us to believe that they time after time discover a new life elixer in the disguise of vaccines and pills. That’s no life elixer that’s profit and hard to swallow for those that see the end of their life creeping up to them.

When in my third year of my social work study I had an internship in a nursing home. The patients were sleeping on wards with at least 12 patients, their belongings were a bed, a nightstand and a cupboard. For months or years these patients stayed in this nursing home. It was basically their last place before they would die. Severely ill patients who were too expensive to stay in a hospital and were therefore transfered to a nursing home. When these patients entered their last phase in life, the terminal phase, they were placed in special terminal rooms to spend their last 3 months. Just before death they were allowed to have some privacy for themselves and their family. The question is if they were given privacy or just taken away even further out of the system that we call society. Death isn’t something we like to watch, we don’t want to watch our ultimate fear to grab another being. We like to dress up the death with all kinds of mystery and smoke curtains, we don’t want to see how we end up in our self created ugliness and fears. When doing my internship in this nursing home I was about 24 years old and I didn’t like these rooms for the death it spooked me out.

My first experience with death, as in physically dead, was while sitting at the back seat of my parents car while driving on the highway. We were slowly passing by a traffic accident that just had happend, a wrecked motorcycle on the road and a lifeless man was lying next to it. In a fraction of a second I saw this face of a dead man and with all the unconscious and inherited information I had gathered already as a 10 year old about death, I did set a picture and definition attached to it in my mind for life. Whenever death came up in real life this picture would pop up with all emotions and feelings attached. The main experience when the word death came up was fear, fear for the unknown.

Later in life I refused to look at dead people, every single time when a family member passed away I went to their funeral to be “respectful” to the family. Whenever others would force me into looking at a dead person I would freak out inside myself and told the other that I didn’t see any purpose for looking at a dead body. Once when I was living in Italy within my first year, I went with a few ladies to a hospital before doing groceries and due to language difficulties I didn’t understand what they were going to do. Before I knew it we ended up in the mortuary of the hospital to pay the last “respects” to a family member of 2 of the ladies. I again freaked out inside myself and told them to go inside the room and that I didn’t want to be rude by entering the room as a stranger to the family.

I didn’t fear reality by watching dead bodies I feared the reality of my mind. The mind who I trusted as myself made me belief that all the ideas I had formed about the death were real and that real life was threatening me. Apart from my mind reality, the physical reality was showing me the most natural thing in life. The one thing we can be sure about and that I feared the most. When we are born people are happy, when we die people are sad. It’s only closing the cycle of life, birth and death the polarity of life. That’s what we do all our life, playing out this polarity and not seeing that in between the Alfa and Omega we are supposed to live life in the physical. It’s our opportunity to experience ourselves within the physical and what are we doing? We get lost within the fear of death, that doesn’t make any sense. That makes us terminal patients waiting for our inevitable death.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to feel spooked by the death rooms for terminal patients in the nursing home.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to fear the dead motorcyclist and connect all kinds of emotions and feelings to this image.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to believe my mind in relations to death.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to freak out when being confronted with seeing death people, instead of seeing that it was my mind using memories to generate this fear.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to trust the mind for being me.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to live in fear of the image of death and not seeing it for what it is. Instead of being my own directive principle and belief that what is physically real.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to live the polarity of life in fear instead of living life the fullest in the physical one and equal to all.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to wait for death as a terminal patient and fearing the one thing that is certain.

A few hours ago a felt a little pimple on my cheek, at least I thought I felt a pimple. So I decided to look into it later to see what kind of anger or frustration I was holding inside me. When I touched it again some time later I wasn’t sure if it was a pimple. It is situated on the spot where I had twice shingles, I just recovered from the last episode.

I felt an energy charge within my body and my mind started to speak to me. What if it is shingles again and I allowed myself to feel sick in my stomach only from the thought. The fear accumulated and I let my partner P. and later my daughter A. look at it and they both said that it didn’t look like a pimple. I was mad, mad for going along with this energy charge and mad on the fact that I might have again shingles at more or less the same spot. The fear accumulated even more, what if I have a weird disease that’s causing me to have shingles over and over again? What is wrong with my immune system? What is it that I haven’t seen yet that’s causing this? Why do I believe the voice in my head?

What have I overlooked the last two times, what do I still have to work on? What energy is still within me?

“Heaven” is the word that tested out with muscle communication and to clarify that the following sentence: “Approval and pretense rarely go together with inner decisions.” In another session I tested that my shingles was about not standing up or speaking out, so I internally haven’t fully committed yet to stand up for myself as life. My actions were according to standing up as life for all, but it wasn’t backed up yet with a 100% inner decision. So I asked myself what was withholding me from not going for the full 100% and I tested that I fear to die in order to rebirth myself as the physical. The dying is the dead of the ego, okay so I’m still not willing to give up ego. I still believe what the mind tells me about myself, who I believe I am. Things like: I’m a good person, I’m able to listen to others, I care for others, I’m creative etc. So every time I’ll believe myself to be a certain way I wil stop and slow down, I will breathe and remain here in the physical. This is heavy, but it’s not that I considered myself already free of ego, no not at all. So a lot of work, but not different from the moment before I started writing this blog. I’m determined now again by the fact that the ego is sneaky and can’t be trusted and I have to be more careful and aware. To understand what the mind is up to before it attacks.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to think I had a pimple.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to doubt the spot was a pimple and not being aware of the energy the mind was accumulating in that moment.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to feel physically sick by the thought of having shingles again.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to be mad at myself for going along with this fear energy.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to mad at my body for possibly producing shingles again.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to be mad at my physical body for showing me reality and the truth about myself.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to fear having a weird disease.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to fear my immune system is deficient.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to not see what is causing the shingles every time.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to believe the voice in my head.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to not stand up for myself as life with a 100% inner decision backing this up.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to fear to die and rebirth myself as the physical.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to fear the dead of my ego.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to believe the things my mind tells me about myself in relation to my identity.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to not being careful and aware when it comes to the actions of the mind/ego.

I saw the video of Lindsay about the story of roses grown in Kenya, than I saw the spring/summer flower photographes of Sunette and heard Kelley speak in her video about what we experience as beautiful and she used flowers as an example. I allowed myself to go back into my memory to see what my perspective on flowers is according to my experiences through the years.

As a child I took flowers for what they were, just flowers, I enjoyed them when I played outside. I used them within my games, I picked them to make flower crowns or me and my friends played mothers who were washing and cooking the vegetables. I picked dandelions for my rabbit. My mom bought now and then flowers to put in a vase inside our home, but we had more green plants growing inside the house.

I Also, when I was living on my own, bought myself now and than some flowers. It wasn’t my passion or an urge to have fresh flowers in my house. At a certain point when I was quite deep involved within spiritualism I refused to buy flowers or to accept them from others. Whenever I looked at flowers in a vase I only saw death. Flowers who were decapitated for me to put in a vase on display, to see throughout the days how they lost their life essence to finally surrender to death. The water from the vase smelling like rotting death.

I spoke about my experience with flowers to a teacher of a Montessori School. She didn’t had any problems with putting flowers on a vase. She explained to me how she always asked the trees and plants if she could take/cut them. She pulled onto the branch or the stem to ask permission. I really didn’t understand this story of communication she had with plans and trees. Even now I do not see the common sense of it. To me this was some sort of a mind game she participated within to feel reassured before damaging nature for idle reasons.

Than we wanted to sell our house in Holland to immigrate to Italy. I read about flowers in the house, that it would make people comfortable and relaxed. With the prospect of selling our house I yielded and bought flowers to decorate my house. Here I can see that I was easily able to give into money. The better we sold our house the more money we had, to buy a nicer new house in Italy. Bribing people with the smell of fresh baked bread and fresh flowers to buy our house at the best price possible. And yes the opposite was our reality…

Since than I never bought flowers again to put in my house into a vase. It’s really useless and unnecessary, we humans do damage already so much of nature that we have to stop this ignorance and believe that it’s okay. It’s okay because we see it on tv, publicity and flower shops look really attractive to catch our attention. When we visit people we bring flowers, when we visit the graves of our family we bring flowers, when men want to impress the other gender they bring flowers. Giving flowers is a sign of kindness and showing ones affection. In reality we have to ask ourselves if that’s really what’s going on. In my perspective the almost dead flowers function as a smoke curtain and are a sign of death and distraction of what’s really going on.

When we visit friends we want them to like us and to invite us again in the future. We eat and drink from their money, we’re like an invited parasite. They invited us for the same reasons we went over to them, to be liked and invited back so they know somebody likes them. Measuring our popularity/self worth according to the amount of friends we have.

When we visit the grave of lets say our dead parents, we still want their approval and be their good girl/boy. Just hiding from ourself, from the fact that we’re not able to trust ourself to value ourself. We still need that from an outside source, dead parents who do not see or experience us anymore and a grave a place where only death rules. Bodies who returned to soil again. Who are we fooling here?

When men give flowers to women they want sex, when they give flowers after a fight they obviously want sex. And we women when accepting the flowers do silently agree with the proposal of sex.

Giving flowers is a symbol of our kindness, a symbol of being so kind to not say what our hidden agenda contains. We’re programmed to always gain/want something when in communication with others solely out of self interest. Small things or big things it’s all the same, it’s being dis-honest to oneself and therefore to all.

I do not bring dead flowers when I visit people, I want them to take me as I am. If that means I will not be invited anymore than I do not feel unworthy. I do not visit graves, because I cannot see the purpose of it. I never had sex for flowers and I do not give flowers to show my kindness, everybody is equal so nobody is that special that I need to show them how kind I am. I do as everybody communicate to gain certain things from others, though I always apply the 1+1 equation. What benefits me, must benefit all.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to yield for money and not standing for what’s best for all.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to let flowers perish in my own home to believe I was spreading pleasantness.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to believe that hoping for more money can be expressed by bribing people with flowers and fresh bread, without consequences.

About me

I'm Sylvia and I'm using this space on the internet to share my process. I'm sharing here my struggles in daily life to become a self-honest, common sensical being. Through self-forgiveness, self-corrective statements and breathe I will change myself in order to change the world. To change the world and make it a better place for everyone equally, therefore I'll give my vote to world equality and an Equal Money System.

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